Lost


The day after I wrote  the story where a five year old nearly drowns, I lost Sam for twenty minutes in the Tennessee Aquarium. Irony much? Intellectually, I knew there was no way he could get at the tanks. Everything was encased behind a wall of glass, and no child could sneak through those locked doors. But before security found him two floors above me, trying to escape and get to the car, I ran repeatedly past the same spot, each time looking up into two stories of light infused water, expecting to see my son’s green-coated body floating down.

_______________________________

Sorry Lance, Carrie. My entry for the hundred word song is not nearly as chipper as “White Nights”.  I picked up on the  musical intensity and the surreal video with the water and diving at the end. And just to be clear, Sam was fine. He was adamant that because he had known he was safe, I should not have been concerned. Little. Shit.

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13 thoughts on “Lost

  1. every parent’s fear so easily realized…wow…

    This is the first interpretation inside a personal post. I’m extraordinarily impressed,Glad he and you are ok.

    • Ohhhhh yeah. And that above doesn’t even go into the kidnappers I had conjuured up. The worst part for me was that he was answering when we first got separated. I would call his name and he woudl say “I’m wight hewe” without ever explaining where ‘here’ was.

      And then he stopped answering me.

      And that was when I flipped my wig. From his perspective, I’m sure it was perfectly rational. He got sick of answering, couldn’t imagine why I was still calling when he was very obviously going to the CAR, right? I could have strangled him, except I was wayyyy too happy he turned out to be alive.

  2. My god, I could not imagine. So far I have only lost sight of my kid once. It was at a huge fair with crazy crowds but it was also only about 2 min…longest 2 min of my life!

    Glad it all worked out

  3. i lost my son at the zoo and was certain he was in the bear habitat. that experience scarred all of us. 3 years later, or maybe even longer (he’s 8 now), the other day he was asking me “how many times have I been lost?” sigh.
    you did a great job of describing the terror.

For the love of Mike, TALK to me! (Concrit welcome on fiction)

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